Angels and Demons
by WideEyedDreamer01
Summary: Something went terribly, terribly wrong at the end of Last Sacrifice, and the world of vampires was changed irrevoccably. Two centuries later, the whole vampire world must pay for their mistakes. This is the age of revenge and redemption, of a battle so great the fate of the world hangs in the balance. This is the age of Angels and Demons. R&R!


**SO! You guys may have seen this fanfic a while back, but it's back now and COMPLETELY different! I really like this idea-although it's not a strict D/R pairing, it will have references to the books, it's almost like a next-gen thingy. Hope you like it!**

**I don't own VA!**

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

_Rosemarie Hathaway was born October 19__th__, 1808. The events of the Vampire Academy series happened just as RM wrote them. Rose and Lissa ran away. Dimitri Belikov found them and brought them back. Rose and Dimitri fell in love, a love they both knew was not only forbidden, but would tear away the fabrics of the only society they had ever known. All of this happened-except for one thing._

_I regret to inform you that Rose and Dimitri did not get to live their happily ever after. _

_Lissa's coronation threw the vampire world into rebellion. She was considered to be illegimate, and after she ruled against changing the law to allow Dhamphirs to fight aged sixteen, other Mori families declared her a traitor and tried to have her killed. It tore the vampire community into two halves-tearing away any chances of Rose and Dimitri having a future as well. A law was introduced when Dhamphirs began to abandon their positions to not allow them to leave their posts under any circumstances. Dimitri, assigned to Tasha, who wanted the Queen done away with, was forced to go to England with his charge. Rose and him had already broken it off when he refused to illegally abandon his charge-even for her. Eventually, Dimitri and Tasha had a son, Ivan. Rose and Adrian got together but then, deciding they were better off as friends, raised their two children with love, but not one they shared romantically for each other. As strigori attacks mounted and Lissa's claim to the throne was disputed, more and more evidence emerged claiming she was not the rightful leader, and the European Mori named a Queen of their own. Rose died in a mass strigori attack when her daughter, Viktoria and her son Mason were twenty years old. The news reached Europe, and Dimitri died several weeks later. After that, the attacks got worse and worse. _

_Now, the year is 2015. Nearly two centuries after the devastating split of the vampires, the whole world is at war. The strigori are stronger than ever. The Mori are all but extinguished. The Dhamphir race has split into two sub-groups known as Angels and Demons. The Angels, descended from the European dhamphirs, are strong in numbers and most resemble the old dhamphirs. The Demons are hated and feared, a smaller, persecuted group that evolved when strigori blood somehow made its way into the system. However, both are very similar-except for the fact that demons, not unlike strigori, thirst for blood- a thirst that the Angels have decided marks them as an enemy._

_Peace attempts had been made, but to no avail. It is only now, with the reveal of a Mori child who can claim to be descended directly from both European and American royalty, that there is a hope of peace being achieved. The strigori want her dead or turned. A mysterious and terrifying group working for the Strigori want to stop these peace attempts at whatever price, even if that means murdering their own. The Angels want her captured. The Demons know she could very well be their salvation._

_Yet somewhere in the midst of all this chaos lies buried the old story of Rose and Dimitri. It was with their unhappy fate that the vampire world fell apart. Somewhere, separated and unknowing, one descendant of Rose and one descendant of Dimitri lives on. It is those two, and only those, who have a chance to reunite the Angels and Demons, lest the Strigori eradicate their kind forever…_

* * *

_"I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world,_

_But it's feeling just like every other morning before,_

_Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone." _

_ – _How Far We've Come, Matchbox 20

I'd like to say I'm a fairly typical teenager. But, well, to put it frankly, I'm not. Right now, I'm guarding the last remaining royal princess, and we're on the run from people who want to kill her and turn me into one of the walking dead. Those who could be allies are persecuting us more harshly than our true enemies, but it is our mission to find these allies and somehow convince them we need each other. But we are running out of time, out of hope, out of chances. Failure is not an option, and success seems nigh on impossible.

My name is Guardian Charlotte Janie Hathaway. Welcome to my nightmare.

* * *

The navy blue cammerati swerved from the left lane, across the right and chucked a U-turn at about sixty miles an hour amid a squad of road-rage from the general population of the intersection.

"Shit!" I swore, banging the heel of my hand against the steering wheel, hard. Violently I stomped my foot on the accelerator, glancing sourly in the rear-vision course, the strigori did not think road rules applied to them, I guess being a literal zombie made them think they were above the law. Assholes. Come on, stupid car, they're gonna kill us, I thought to myself. The old explorer's engine protested, but complied.

"Charlie, fang it!" Cried my passenger, her blue eyes shining in excitement.

"Yeah, Ange, I'm on it," I said grimly. She bounced in her seat, making the car shake. I rolled my eyes as I pursed my lips, trying to concentrate on the fast-approaching car, but she was making it hard. She was only just nine years old, and this wasn't her first high-speed car chase. Nor did I have much faith that it would be her last. I looked frantically at the signs we were flitting by as trees got bigger and houses got sparser. Just the way they liked it.

"They're pushing us bush," Ange stated. I tightened my jaw.

"Wow. Good one, captain obvious." Telling the crown princess to shut up was probably a breach of Guardian policy, but whatevs. Unlike most middle-schoolers, who might have looked crestfallen, sniffed, and _shut up_- ah, cue wishful thinking-she smirked, and there was the briefest flash of sharp, white, pointed canines that offset the archetypal "cute little girl" stereotype she fitted perfectly. The addition of fangs made the whole illusion more than a little eerie.

"No problem, Sergeant Sarcasm." I frowned. Good comeback _and_ alliteration. Damn. I'd have to find an "O" word next time. Operator? Nah.

"Try _Officer_," she smirked. "Just save the comebacks and keep your eyes on the road, Charlie." Oh, yeah. That's another thing about Angel. She can _read people's minds_. Most of the time, she used it for good, not evil, but anyone who played poker with her was plain old stupid. I rolled my eyes. Officer. _Duh._

"Can you get out of my head?" I demanded. "Why don't you be useful and get into theirs?" I jabbed a terse finger at the Camm we were only just keeping out of our backside, no thanks to moi. She rolled her eyes.

"I've tried, Charlie. But strigori are dead, which makes it kind of hard," she frowned.

"Figures," I muttered. "Hold on, would you?" I stomped on the brakes, hard, causing the strigori to swerve around us, and then I put the accellerator back on, effectively reversing our positions. The hunted became the hunter.

"How did you do that?" Angel asked in awe. I smirked.

"Strigori don't play videogames. And I ain't a Hathaway for nothing. We'll drive em out of town a bit, then let them get away. We don't need a confrontation," I told her.

"What if they try and do what you did?" I shook my head.

"A good offence is the best defence," I said curtly, and concentrated on pursuing them. Chances were they didn't even know it was Angel in the car, they probably thought I was an Angel; after all, this was their territory.

"Whoa-oh, shit!" I yelled, as the Camm swung a hasty left, then a quick right.

"Hang a left! Hang a right!" My backseat driver squealed, clearly having great fun. She should be at school, I thought numbly. Why didn't I leave her at that goddamn school in New York?

"Because you love me," she said sweetly, reading my thoughts again.

"Angel, shut up!" I howled, realizing that I'd like to throttle her right now. Instead, I opened up the explorer, and throttled that instead. It didn't have quite the same effect, but I doubted that telling the Royal Court I strangled my charge would go down very well, so throttling the engine would have to do.

"Now you're driving!" She yelled back. I smirked. Then her face fell.

"Lottie," she said lowly. "We're being followed." I looked back hastily, to see a beaten up range rover following us, fast, at a distance of about fifty yards. I swallowed hard. A strigori sandwich was about the last thing I ever needed or wanted.

"More?" I asked. Angel frowned, straining to reach a connection.

"No, they aren't strigori. I'm…I'm not sure what they are, Charlie."

Police? I guessed. That little stunt back there probably didn't go down too well. It would be just my luck to get pulled over by stinking human cops. She frowned.

I don't think so. Suddenly the fucker- only one of them- opened fire on us, smashing our back window. I winced, pressing down harder on the accelerator.

"Hunch down," I ordered, in full-on guardian mode, and she complied. She was a smart kid- she knew when to do what she was told, and when not to. Bless you, child, I thought, and refocused on the strigori. There was a zing, a metallic snap of sorts, and my fine-tuned ears picked up something rushing through the air from behind us. A grenade? Now that was a_ little_ drastic, even by my standards, and my family was known for their dramatics.

"Stay down!" I told her, and then felt a substantial prick in the back of my neck. I gasped, feeling my whole neck go cold immediately, and pulled the small dart out and swore.

"Oh no you didn't, motherfucker," I growled, but then exhaled and tried to calm myself, for both our sakes. If I lost my nerve right now, it could very well mean the end of us.

"I never thought I'd say this, but Angel, take the wheel. Think COD meets Grand Theft Auto, ok?"

"Okey dokie!" She chirped, scrambling over me, and then gasped.

"Wait!" She shrieked.

"What?" I yelled, looking frantically around for something I might have missed. _Yeah. Real professional, Charlie._

"Grand Theft one or two?" She asked, her eyes twinkling. I rolled mine, unamused by her humor. Clearly, Angel couldn't grasp that our latest life-or-death situation was not, in fact, the greatest time to ask me questions about video games.

"One, obviously. Two sucked." A bullet cracked our windscreen, a lucky miss, and I flinched.

"What is it, Charlie?" She asked, biting her lip. Turning behind me, I studied the car, the silhouette of the driver, and an icy calm washed over me. I was unafraid of our pursuer. Death would be kinder than this. He had shot at me a subduing dart, and I knew it was designed to cause maximum pain and paralysis. It all became very clear.

"Angel, he's a hunter," I shouted. "Son of a bitch doesn't-

BOOOM. Angel screamed. I cursed. As we had been concentrating on the threat behind us, our pursuees had slammed on the brakes and turned sideways, maybe just realizing the gorge we were pushing them into. The explorer collided with the Camm side-on, and I was vaguely aware of a few airbags going off, a hefty pain in my side, and then there was the heat. It managed to throw me clean out of one smashed window, and I skidded amid the rubble, landing with a solid thump and feeling my face blister. Somewhere I made room for anger, seeing the four strigori jump clean off the edge of the gorge and into freedom. My offensive technique had worked, but I had been entertaining the thought of killing all of them. _Bastards_. I tried to scramble up, forgetting about the stupid thing our latest pain in the ass had shot at me. My knees tried to give way, only sheer willpower keeping me on my feet as I stumbled my way towards my charge. _Note to self: Do not let the last Dragomir get blown up,_ I ordered myself. Angel was still in the car, which, I judged would probably do some more exploding quite soon. There was smoke and flying debris everywhere, she was crumpled against the side-door, looking unconscious but okay for the time being. An airbag had, thank god, cushioned her. Grimly, I gently pulled her out, hoping for no spinal injuries. Our kind renowned for their hardiness, but she was only young, and Mori. Shifting her to my hip, I pulled off my sweatshirt and she stirred, coughing from the smoke.

"Charlie-"

"Put it over your mouth and breathe," I hissed, and she obeyed. We crawled through the smoke, my lungs and body now aching with pain. Vaguely I spied the old range rover, able to make out one tall shape. I could see it once again taking aim.

"Stop!" I ordered, filling my lungs with smoke. The hunter paused when he saw Angel, and then raised the butt of the weapon. Heartless SOB. No. This was not how we would die. I had been the one to take Angel into this mess, so I would, come hell or high tide, get her out of this nightmare. It was imperative. I couldn't let her die. I had taken her away from court for her safety, I would not be the one to let her life end here, even if it meant the end of mine. They come first. After everything, they still came first.

"You can't touch a minor!" I screamed. Upon further inspection, I decided the hunter wasn't much older than I was, twenty-five at the most. We would have been a fair match, if I wasn't injured and completely unarmed-my stake was probably in smithereens right now, and the handgun I'd carried had been in the back of my car. No, it was just me, this time. Finally, the tables had turned. I had lived my whole life being a hunter, being the strong, capable protector. Now that had changed. The hunter had become the hunted, and if I couldn't think of something fast, the outcome was not going to be very pretty.

"Please, she's only a kid!" I begged, hearing my voice- and my heart-break. I had been fair game since the age of eighteen, but Angel didn't deserve to die. Guardians were brought up expecting to die young or at any moment, as a guardian that became second nature. _They come first_. The words rang loudly in my drug-dazzled mind, the one phrase that seemed to have been passed down for centuries and haunted every guardian's waking thought. That was all that mattered, and right now, I was not about to question it. Satisfied that if the car exploded, she'd be safe, I put her down on the ground about fifteen feet from the sniper, who had, as of yet, made no move to shoot. I had it weighed up that he would probably kill me, but if he captured or left Angel to die, she was smart. She would figure it out. She wasn't the last Dragomir for nothing, I thought, feeling my body failing me. I stumbled about ten steps before I fell, in darkness before my head hit the ground. As the rubble-strewn ground rushed up to meet me, I had one last thought.

_And so dies the last Hathaway._

* * *

**Please review!**

**Em xx**


End file.
